


Strangely the Same

by Queen of the Castle (queen_of_the_castle_77)



Category: Doctor Who, Secret Diary of a Call Girl (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Drama, F/F, F/M, Romance, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-15
Updated: 2011-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-23 18:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_of_the_castle_77/pseuds/Queen%20of%20the%20Castle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she sees a website speculating about whether the mysterious Vitex heiress is moonlighting as a hooker, there’s really nothing else for it. Of course she clicks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strangely the Same

**Author's Note:**

> Crossover between Secret Diary of a Call Girl and Doctor Who, set in Pete’s World.

Pete tells her from the get-go not to pay any attention to what the media says about her. His people will handle it, he promises. He clearly anticipates (correctly, as it turns out) that there’s going to be some massive fall-out from the supposed long-lost daughter of the head of the Vitex Corporation suddenly showing up out of the woodworks at the exact same time his presumed-Cyberised wife makes a reappearance.

Rose tries to just ignore it as Pete says she should. She really does. But eventually she still finds herself typing her own name into Moogle (she’s still having almost as much difficulty with all the odd little differences like _that_ as she is with the bigger changes in this universe).

When she sees a website speculating about whether the mysterious Vitex heiress is moonlighting as a hooker, there’s really nothing else for it. Of course she clicks.

At first she thinks they’re photo-shopped images. Incredibly well done (and by ‘well done’, she really means horrific, given the circumstances), but still. It’s not as if it’s just her face pasted on, though. The body on display looks indistinguishable from hers, though she definitely doesn’t own any underwear that fancy in this universe.

Rose paces the room, trying to think how this could possibly have happened. Honestly, she thinks, it all seems a little too elaborate to be just some crazed fan making a fake website or something. The phone number she dials off the screen even actually rings through to a woman who answers as ‘Belle’, just as the website claims.

Rose has no idea what she’s thinking when she asks for an appointment. Belle sounds hesitant.

“Women aren’t my speciality,” she says politely. “I can refer you on to someone –”

“No,” Rose says abruptly. “It’s really gotta be you. I can make it worth your while.”

Belle doesn’t seem completely convinced, but she does schedule Rose for four o’clock the following afternoon.

Rose hangs up and sits down right there on the ground, her legs folding almost involuntarily underneath her.

She’s just made a date with a prostitute. Who apparently looks _exactly_ like her, if this whole thing is actually for real.

It finally occurs to her that she knows precisely how that sort of thing is possible. It’s hardly the first time she’s seen it in this universe, though it’s taken Rose several months after initially ending up stuck in the wrong universe to find out why there isn’t a version of Rose Tyler here (except for a dog, which Rose doesn’t think counts), even though everyone else she knows (except the Doctor) seems to have a double.

It turns out that there _is_ , actually. She’s just not _called_ Rose Tyler.

* * *

The woman who can only be ‘Belle’ pulls up short for a moment, shocked, when she sees Rose sitting and waiting at the cocktail bar.

“Wow,” Belle says as she slides gracefully into the seat beside Rose. “Well this is unexpected. I suppose this explains your eagerness to see me, though.”

Rose looks her up and down. “You’re classier than I expected,” she says, then regrets her abruptness. Belle doesn’t seem fazed, though.

“And you look even more like me than your pictures in the newspapers would suggest,” Belle responds smoothly. “I can’t tell you how odd it is for me seeing someone who looks like an exact copy of me pasted all over the covers. Not to mention a bit worrying at first. I thought it must be some kind of expose about _me_ , and my family don’t exactly know about,” she gestures at herself, “ _this_.”

“I’d say it’s probably less weird than seein’ someone who looks just like you only semi-dressed on an escort site,” Rose says pointedly.

Belle clasps her hands together and sighs. “If you’re here to try to bring legal action on me for using your image or something...”

“No,” Rose says. “Don’t worry. I didn’t lure you here with some kind of lie. I’m here for exactly what you expected before you got here.”

It doesn’t matter that she only made that decision well after she made the phone call, just as the cab dropped her off and she saw the ATM from which she’d subsequently withdrawn a wad of cash. Nor does it matter that that she’s stunned herself with that decision even more than it seems she’s stunned Belle.

Belle, at least, is quicker than Rose herself to recover from the shock. It probably isn’t the weirdest thing she’s ever been asked to do, in her line of work. Rose even gets the idea that, much like herself, Belle is kind of intrigued by the prospect of being with someone just like her.

“Well then,” Belle says with a slight smile, looking every inch the professional suddenly. “If you’d like to come with me? There’s champagne upstairs, so never mind about the drink.”

Rose obediently leaves the semi-full glass behind and trails behind.

She wonders what the other people in the hotel lobby think when they see the two of them together. They look like twins, but surely there’s something in the way Rose is almost hypnotised by the self-assured sashay of Belle’s hips that tips them off that something’s not quite as it seems.

Perhaps, though, they just don’t care. Rose finds, to her surprise, that she sure doesn’t.

In the half an hour sitting in the bar drinking her courage and wondering just what the hell she’s thinking, Rose has managed to come up with one unassailable fact.

She’s lonely.

After leaving the Doctor with a heartfelt ‘I love you’, and being at least half-convinced he’d have returned it had he not run out of time, Rose hasn’t been able to even consider dating again. On the other hand, though, it’s been _so long_ since she’s had the comfort of someone touching her; even just something as simple as hands other than her own running along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. The Doctor’s warm hugs had been an adequate substitute, at least mostly. Now she has nothing.

This, she thinks, somehow doesn’t feel quite as much as if she’s cheating as it would if she took up with some other man. Belle is, after all, the alternate version of Rose herself. She can almost convince herself it’s just like masturbation, only so much better.

Even if she ever manages to get back to the Doctor and he doesn’t just write it off as some odd human quirk of curiosity (and, to be honest, the plain curiosity _is_ actually a huge part of it) – even if he gets truly upset – she’s still not sure she’ll completely regret this. She _needs_ it. She’s aching for someone to just take care of her this way, just for a while. She’s sick of being so strong.

Belle sends her off to have a shower once Rose has handed over the money. Rose wonders whether she’ll change her mind under the harsh reality of the pounding hot spray. She doesn’t. This is what she wants, strange as that may be.

The gentle pressure of Belle’s hands on her as they meet beside the bed makes her shiver. She closes her eyes as Belle’s fingers work to shed the robe Rose has put on after her shower. She guides Rose back onto the bed.

“Relax,” Belle says. It doesn’t quite have the authority of a command, but Rose’s body takes it like one anyway.

She gasps in anticipation when Belle’s hands reach the swell of her hips. Oh, it’s been so _long_. She’s missed this so much.

She doesn’t get the idea that Belle’s had a lot of experience going down on a girl, but she’s still significantly better at it than the few guys Rose has slept with (though it wouldn’t be hard to do better than Jimmy, Rose thinks ruefully). When she uses her fingers, though, and especially when she pulls out a vibrator and puts it to exceptionally good use, Rose has no trouble believing that not only does this woman do this as a profession, but she also happens to be just like her in more than superficial looks. She clearly knows almost _exactly_ what Rose likes.

When Rose peaks, she almost can’t get enough oxygen through her gasps.

It’s dizzying and exquisite. She’s rarely been taken so high before, and no man or boy has ever guided her back down so tenderly.

And yet Rose knows she’d still take the Doctor over this any day, even (or perhaps especially) if he’s fumbling and nervous and things between them are as awkward at first as those few times when something between them became just a little bit too much for him would suggest. That, after all, is real. That’s _love_.

This isn’t either of those things, and it doesn’t pretend to be.

When she leaves Belle in the hotel room, it’s with a soft kiss and a thank you. Whatever else this encounter might have been, it’s reminded her exactly why she needs to keep looking for a way back.

For now that’s exactly what she needs most in this entire universe.

~FIN~


End file.
